In a world grappling with rising antisemitism, Dr. Alex Grobman brings a profound and timely introspection into the heart of Jewish identity, security, and destiny. As a senior scholar and a voice for peace in the Middle East, Dr. Grobman, through his insights, effectively ‘humanizes’ the intricate dance between ancient religious imperatives and modern existential choices confronting American (and UK) Jews. At its core, his message isn’t just an academic discourse but a soul-stirring conversation about home, belonging, and the true meaning of safety in an increasingly unpredictable world. He doesn’t just present arguments; he unpacks the very human dilemmas of yearning for a promised land versus finding solace in a land of promise, especially when that solace feels increasingly fragile. With every word, Grobman invites us to consider the profound psychological and spiritual implications of these choices, asking if the pursuit of perceived safety in the Diaspora is, in fact, an unwitting exchange of a divine mandate for an illusion.
The bedrock of Dr. Grobman’s argument rests on Yishuv Eretz Yisrael, the religious commandment to settle and live in the Land of Israel. This isn’t merely a geographical instruction but, as he elucidates, a spiritual imperative, the very environment “for the Jewish soul.” He helps us understand that for many, Israel isn’t just a place; it’s a sacred canvas where Torah’s commandments, especially those tied to agriculture like ma’aserot and Shemittah, can fully bloom. He invokes revered figures like Nachmanides and Maimonides, not just as historical references but as guiding lights that affirm the Land’s intrinsic holiness – a holiness deepened by Jewish habitation. Maimonides’ assertion that “The Jew must live among his sovereign people in order to fulfill the Commandments,” underscores that this isn’t just about personal piety, but about a collective national and spiritual existence. Grobman makes it clear: this isn’t simply a historical attachment, but a civilizational one, suggesting that Israel is the very stage upon which Jewish destiny is meant to unfold, a concept that transcends mere nostalgia or trauma and ventures deep into the core of collective identity.
Responding to the prevalent concern that Israel might be “too dangerous,” Dr. Grobman masterfully dismantles common misconceptions, injecting a much-needed dose of historical sobriety. For many American Jews, the United States has long represented a secure haven, built upon universal human rights and democratic institutions. However, Grobman gently but firmly reminds us that “Jewish security in the Diaspora has always depended, ultimately, on the goodwill of others.” This phrase hits home, laying bare the inherent vulnerability of relying on an acceptance that “can turn conditional.” He humanizes this vulnerability, illustrating how what feels permanent can quickly unravel, and how even great comfort, influence, and success in the Diaspora can never truly equate to sovereignty. The “single-target” argument, which suggests that a dispersed Jewish population is safer, is reframed as a “sophisticated rationalization for maintaining exile.” Here, Grobman channelizes Kenneth Levin’s insights, noting that Zionism fundamentally transformed the Jewish condition, moving beyond a defenseless minority to a sovereign people capable of self-defense. This isn’t just a political shift; it’s a profound psychological liberation, shedding the historical burden of dependency.
Dr. Grobman further enriches this discussion by presenting the insightful four responses of Professor Ruth Gavison, making her complex arguments accessible and deeply relatable. Gavison’s first point, that Jews in Israel don’t depend on “the goodwill of rulers,” resonates as a powerful assertion of self-determination. It speaks to the human yearning for agency, for control over one’s own fate without outsourcing it. Her second response tackles the insidious accusation that Israel causes antisemitism, a claim that, as Grobman points out, is not only historically false but adopts “the logic of the antisemite.” This is a crucial humanization of the plight, as it challenges the blaming of victims and reminds us that hatred often finds convenient excuses but rarely has justifiable origins. Gavison’s third and fourth responses are perhaps the most compelling: Israel offers “the only country in the world that gives Jews an opportunity to apply Judaism to the totality of their existence,” and where “pressures to assimilate work toward Judaism rather than against it.” This isn’t just about preserving a culture; it’s about enabling a flourishing, vibrant, and integrated Jewish life where one doesn’t have to swim against the current but rather is carried by it.
In his concluding thoughts, Dr. Grobman carefully acknowledges the “extraordinary achievements of American Jewry,” recognizing their immense contributions without conflating success with security. He draws a poignant distinction between “gratitude” and “permanence,” “success” and “security,” and “influence” and “sovereignty.” This nuance prevents his argument from feeling accusatory and instead makes it an invitation for profound reflection. He challenges the notion that a “favorable historical moment” can be mistaken for a “covenantal destination.” This is where the human element truly shines: the yearning of generations of Jews who prayed “next year in Jerusalem” isn’t merely a tradition but a deep-seated, ancestral call. To transform this longing into a “lifestyle preference,” he argues, “is to diminish the deepest grammar of Jewish history.”
Ultimately, Dr. Grobman’s message is a compelling and compassionate call to introspection, particularly pertinent in our current climate. He frames the question not as whether American Jews can lead meaningful lives in the Diaspora (many clearly do), but whether “the American Jewish community has mistaken comfort for destiny.” As “hostility, institutional cowardice, and collapsing illusions” rise, he contends that neglecting the divine command to return, build, and dwell in Israel for the “shaky promise of Diaspora safety” is not prudence but “a dangerous bargain with history.” His words don’t just present a historical or theological argument; they speak to the very human desire for true belonging, intrinsic security, and a destiny shaped by self-determination, urging a reconnection with an ancient mandate that promises not just survival, but thriving.